Firelight
by babyhilts
Summary: Fire fire burning bright. Fire fire lights the night. Illuminates the star strewn sky. Whose turn tonight is it to die?
1. Prologue

_Author's Note: Just a quick note. This is my first supernatural fan fic, but not my first fan fic. Hopefully people enjoy it. The rest of chapter 1 is being written up while you read this, i just wanted the prologue up first. Also, this will NOT be a mary sue type thing. There will be an added character further on, however, no romance or damsel in distress kinda thing will happen. Anyway, enjoy. I hope! Reviews would be appreciated and i get back to everyone who reviews!_

_P.S. Don't mind the grammar or spelling mistakes!_

* * *

****

**Prologue:**

Sanguine mists rose slowly from the old floorboards. The mahogany that had been laid out only days before, now sat, imprinted with the smell of decay and burnt flesh. Blue flames devoured the kitchen's linoleum tiles and climbed the palm olive scented counter tops. It engulfed the halls, swallowed the living room and the old leather sectional. The TV disappeared behind a wall of sapphire heat.

Matted blonde curls overflowed on the floor next to a canopy bed. Blood trailed down the still body, staining the left side of a woman's cotton nightgown. In the dark it would be impossible to distinguish the red from the ebony that filled the room. Yet somehow, she knew it was there.

Knees drawn in; pulled tight enough in hopes of creating a wall of protection about herself. The door would not be able to hold back the fire for long. It would tear through the drywall and wood just as it had the rest of the house. She could smell the burnt furniture, could see the dark clouds reaching through the cracks. It was only a matter of time before it came for her. The smoke had already begun to wrap its greedy hands about her lungs, pulling and tugging, urging her to lose consciousness. And she would, if it weren't for the burbling. If she shut her eyes, it would have been easy to imagine herself sitting next to a calm brook, the water talking to her every now and then. The birds chirping on the branch of a nearby oak and a grasshopper crawling up her bare ankle. The sun warming the back of her neck as she reclined in the soft grass. But that was all just a fantasy

With eyes open it was clear where the sounds were coming from. A dark stain left a wide trail from the door to where the body lay next to the young woman's bed. Jaw broken, it hung to the side, while blood slithered down the pallid skin.

She would give up soon. It was something the other woman was certain off. Watching from a three foot distance, it was clear that the cut across the abdomen would end the woman's life. Her chest rose and fell, struggling beneath the pain and death, just begging to take in another gasping breath. Liquid, either blood or something else had risen and begun to bubble against the walls of her mouth and tickle the back of her throat. Strength depleted, she would not be able to turn herself over to save from chocking.

Thunder sounded behind the bedroom door. The woman fought once last time against the impending death and then released her hold on life in the same instant. The other woman watched, teary eyed while the body of her mother sunk lifelessly against the floor.

Wood splintered and broke beneath the bombardment of heat. Death was calling to her. She pulled herself towards the bedroom window and looked outside to the drop below. Rose bushes and garden gnomes, maybe some fertilizer to soften the fall. It would be a way out from the hungry blaze that had plagued her for nights even before it had appeared in the house. Her mother was dead and she'd seen the blood, seen the red mists rising up from the other set of lifeless bodies in their dinning room. The family that she had once loved was gone, their flesh melting while white hot bones remained meshing into the floors. There weren't enough tears to bring them back and a small voice encouraged her to drown in the inferno.

Blue flames stripped apart the door and poured into her childhood bedroom. It headed forward like an animal, pulling the corpse through the fire and continued toward the panicking girl. The next few moments blurred together. A fog seemed to distort her vision and she could barely feel the window pane beneath her palms. She struggled to open it while the fire tongued her feet. The next instant she was free falling into darkness, a pain shot up her back and her left wrist twisted and fell limp. After another minute, things buzzed and her mind disappeared into the fog.


	2. Chapter1: Sweet dreams are made of these

_**Author's Note: So here is the next chapter. Sorry for the little delay. I haven't had much time with school and work but I managed to get this out. I'm still piecing the story together as I go so bare with me and hopefully this chapter is alright. Thank you all so much for the reviews and hope you review for this one too. Any criticism is accepted as long as it is constructive. I'd also like to mention what I forgot to in the beginning, that the summary for this story I cannot take responsibility for. It is part of a poem written by Carl Sandburg with the same name as this story. I thought it resembled a lot of my ideas for this story so I borrowed it. It's a good poem and if anyone has time, they should check it out. Anyway, enough rambling. Here's the next chappie. If anything gets confusing just tell me and hopefully I can fix things. Until then, here ya go…**_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 1:**

_We have a weight to carry and a distance we must go. We have a weight to carry, a destination we can't know. We have a weight to carry and we can put it down nowhere. We are the weight to carry from there to here to there. –**Dean Koontz** Book of Counted Sorrows_

_**11 years later…**_

The bed sheets fell to the floor. For the past three hours they'd been nothing but tight restraints to the occupant of the hard motel bed. They were stained yellow from age and the constant heat of an old dryer. Things had been silent up until that moment. Two young men, Dean and Sam Winchester, both slept in opposite beds. Dean stretched; his right arm hidden beneath a lumpy pillow, while his stomach caressed the mattress. Sam tossed about only a few feet away. The mattress springs whined as he shifted his weight, flopping about as if he were a fish on land. Until that moment everything had been going well enough and then Sam woke up.

It wasn't as though he'd been having that nice of a sleep in the first place but at least surrounded by unconsciousness he didn't have to grasp the full seriousness of the visions that crossed his mind. They were nightmares. Neon tinted fantasies that one would expect to see if they were sailing into the abyss of an acid high. People spoke, but their voices were either too loud or too quiet. He was there too, both in the dream, acting out his own role and as the audience. Anything else he picked up on during his sleep didn't seem to stick with him. Except the fire. Blue flames that had appeared in the dreams he'd had of Jess. They were there again, circling about another woman he couldn't recognize.

Sam's body twisted about on the mattress while he struggled to loosen the sheets. Sweat continued to slither down his face. He was hot. Sticky and uncomfortable and he wanted to get out of the room, but he knew he couldn't.

Asleep in the next bed was his brother. It had been a long week. A poltergeist had given them a run for their money, but as always they'd gotten the job done. It was the first time in a while that Dean had looked that peaceful for so long. Sam's nightmares of Jess had diminished some, but he knew very well that his brother kept close watch on him while he slept. However, the nonstop adrenaline high the two of them had been living off of to get them through the last few weeks had run out and now they were exhausted.

Sam slid off the lumpy bed and into a pair of baggy Levis that just didn't seem to fit him the way they used to. He kept the grey shirt he'd been sleeping in on and stumbled out of the room.

Easing the motel door close behind himself, he stood outside, the cool wind wrapping greedy hands about his uncovered neck. Dawn could be seen in the rise of delicious oranges and soft pinks that mingled together just over the horizon. Sam watched, exhaustion weighing him down towards the pavement, but the fear of falling back asleep keeping him upright.

Brown eyes wandered over the empty parking lot and cracked asphalt. He wondered aimlessly to the dream. The smell of burning flesh still lurked about the walls of his mouth. Part of him wanted to gag, hoping the memory would be disposed of as well, but he couldn't bring himself to get sick in front of their doorstep. Besides that, it hadn't been the first time he'd had the taste in his mouth, or dreamt of the house on fire and the girl in tears. It was always the same and he always awoke just as the girl fell into darkness.

Sam leaned up alongside the wall of the motel and sighed. The nightmares reminded him of the visions he'd had of Jess, but these were different. He knew there was nothing he could do. There were no clues as to how he might be able to help the suffering girl, so he kept silent. He didn't tell Dean. Dean had enough things to worry about without knowing that his nightmares or visions were becoming more real. There was something about the girl in his dreams however. Something Sam just could not place.

"Sam!"

Sam turned back towards the motel door. The tone in Dean's voice implied the obvious. He had wandered off again and now big bro was getting his panties in a bunch. Oh well, at least he'd had some time to think things over. Still, he wasn't sure what should be done about the dreams. Perhaps he'd just play it out a while longer. Wait to see if anything new popped up that could actually give him some clue as to what was going on.

"I just stepped out for a minute" Sam reassured while standing in the doorway of their room.

Dean looked up, glassy, tired eyes peering through the dim light of the lamp by their beds. His brow furrowed and he heaved the blankets back over his head while falling back into the mattress.

"It's five a. m. Sammy, go back to sleep."

"I wanted some fresh air." Sam continued, stepping across the room and towards the bathroom.

"Well, crack open a window."

"Yeah, yeah."

Sam shut the bathroom door and took in his mirror self. He knew what Dean was implying when he said 'crack open a window', it meant he didn't want to have to worry. He was right too. Sam was sick of letting his brother worry about him but it was almost impossible with the life they'd been leading.

He pulled a blue towel off the rack and laid it out on the closed toiled seat lid. Drawing the shower curtains back, he turned the taps and waited for the water to adjust to the right temperature. It only took a minute and then he was shedding his jeans and top and standing beneath the metal shower head. A warm spray of water washed over old scars and loosened his tense muscles.

His mind began to fade away. Listening to the pressure as it circulated through the pipes and the pounding of water as it hit the ceramic bathtub about his feet. He made fists with his toes, taking in as much of the warmth as he could. It must have been well over ten minutes that he stayed hunched over in the shower. Dean couldn't be heard stirring, so Sam didn't mind staying another five minutes in the bathroom.

There was a hot tingling sensation beginning at the back of his head. Sam ignored it as nothing, maybe the onset of a stress headache from the nightmare. He hummed an old favorite of his while massaging his stiff shoulders. About five seconds into the chorus his sight became distorted. It was as if someone had just dimmed the lighting almost entirely. Sam felt himself looking through a narrow tunnel of light. A blinding surge of pain errupted in the middle of his head that almost sent reeling backwards.

Lashing out desperately, he grabbed hold of the shower curtains, the water pounding much louder now and confusing him further. He pulled the curtains back an inch or so, just in time to watch the countertops and walls sliding downwards. It wasn't until he couldn't feel the bathtub beneath his feet anymore that he realized he was the one sliding.

One trip over the side of the tub and his body lurched forward, head just hitting close enough to the counter to make him squeal in pain. A moment later he was lying across the cold linoleum floor. The shower running in the backdrop, Sam could feel the tunnel of light slowly disappearing for good. He tried to adjust his head to find some better lighting but movement was impossible and soon the light had gone out completely. The darkness consumed him in one instant and while his body lay across the bathroom floor and blood escaped from the back of his head, he found himself falling once again into another dream.

* * *

_ The fire was back. Just as hungry as it had been 11 years ago. However, this time it tore through another house. Images came and went. Quickly washing across the woman's unconsciousness mind and then, everything went black. For a moment there was relief, as if the nightmarish reel had finally ended and then, the lights went on once again. Things slowed down and it was only one image that stayed there. A blonde hared woman, her skin fair, with beautiful caring eyes, stood anxiously in a doorway. The scene shifted towards where she looked and a hunched figure could be seen leaning over a child's crib. The woman questioned the stranger in the room, but her voice was barely audible. A silent hush fell from the turned back and the woman smiled and left. She seemed satisfied with the response. _

_She stepped quietly down the hall, when her attention seemed caught again. Still watching her footing so as not to disturb anyone else in the house, she came around towards the living room. A tv played, chattering dully in the backdrop and a sleeping figure took up space on their couch. It seemed normal enough, but not for the woman. Her face paled as she took in the man on the couch. _

_Her footing as almost lost as she ran quickly towards the way she'd come. The hall echoed her panicked jog and while she disappeared back into the child's room that had been visited only moments before, a deafening cry sounded._

_The next few moments, things came and went just as quickly as they'd been in the beginning. There was an image of a man, his face wrought with exhaustion. He stood the room where flames began to grow. Devouring the ceiling and crawling along the walls. It was the child's room. The baby's cries were now clear as day, but there was no sign of the woman. _

_The man raced towards the crib and pulled the baby into the safety of his arms. He waited a moment and turned his attention to the ceiling, a few tears making their way down his aged face. The fire sounded louder behind him and he moved once more into the hallway. There he was greeted by another child, this one around four or five, stood with his shaggy brown hair and child's pajamas. The man could not resist looking back towards the room one last time. _

_"Take your brother outside as fast as you can." the man pushed the baby into the older child's arms. "Now Dean, go!"_

* * *

Liisa pushed herself off the hardwood floor. Gasping and sucking in painful breaths of air. She felt her body beginning to tremble while the tears streamed down her face. The nightmare had lasted longer than any of the ones before it. She'd been conscious when its deathly hands took hold of her and that was what scared her the most. If they could get her while she was awake then there would be no stopping them anymore. 

Matted brown curls washed across her vision as she used the heels of her hands to get herself to her feet. The humid July air had turned cold so suddenly that it caught the young woman off guard. Dressed only in a light t-shirt and sweat pants, she rubbed her naked arms and stepped out of the bathroom.

The small apartment lay before her in shambles, just the way she'd left it. Clothes were strewn across an unswept floor and cartons of day old Chinese food sat untouched on the kitchen countertops. Beneath her feet, the rumbling of rock and roll music and endless chattering could be heard coming from the night club. It was hard to ignore the sounds during the hours of seven p.m. and three a.m. but any time between that it was almost peaceful. Liisa didn't plan on getting any sleep any time soon since in a few hours she would be downstairs along with the rest of the cities party animals.

An open window blew the sounds of night traffic into the apartment. Walking cautiously over her scattered belongings, Liisa stood before the window and looked out towards downtown. Dodge City was lit up like a cheap neon Christmas tree. Sodium lights flickered below, while a drunk stumbled across the street.

Liisa sighed and felt the hot tears starting up once again. Shutting the window with a resounding thud, she made her way back through the apartment and flung herself on the nearby couch. The room was almost entirely swallowed in darkness and Liisa felt reassured by that. She didn't want someone to come wandering into her apartment and find her curled up in the cushions, the tears making nice distinguishing trails across her cheeks.

Chin resting softly on her drawn in knees, Liisa listened tiredly to the sound of cheering below and the onset of yet another AC DC song. The band had been played to death in that night club, but no one else seemed to mind.

Closing her eyes softly, Liisa tried to let the sounds collide with one another in hopes of creating a symphony of relaxation in her mind. She eased herself once again into the couch and felt herself becoming lost in a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Dean sat on the edge of his bed staring in the direction of the bathroom. Sam had been in there for well over twenty minutes. The shower had never been shut off, so he was assuming his younger brother was still using it. 

"Jeez Sammy" Dean cursed to himself as he made his way towards where he'd last seen Sam.

He brought his fist up against the door, giving the weakening wood a few harsh raps before he fell silent and waited for an answer. Nothing came. Dean tried once more but it was all in vain. Just the sound of the shower could be heard from inside the next room.

"Come on Sam, you've been in there a half hour. I think your clean enough!"

No one responded. Dean could feel himself growing anxious. His heart skipped a beat every now and then but he didn't want to start panicking. Sam was probably humming to himself or something, maybe the water was too loud or maybe he was just being a pain in the ass and refused to get out of the shower.

"Sam!"

Dean tried the doorknob but of course it was locked.

"Alright that's it Sammy" he began to mumble while getting on down on his knees. He lowered himself on the rough carpeting and pressed his face so that now it was parallel with the small space between the floor and where the door began. It was barely even an inch high but he figure if there was something that needed to be seen, than he'd see it. "I swear Sam, when I find out you've been wasting all the hot water and left me nothing, I will…"

Dean stopped abruptly, both in shock and in fear. With his neck stretched painfully and eyes peering through the crack, he could make out the form of undressed younger brother, a puddle of water soaking in his naked form. Dean could only see part of Sam's torso, but that was enough for him to know that something was wrong. There would be no other explanation for his brother to be lying on the floor like that.

Getting to his feet, Dean tried the door handle again.

"Come on. Come on!" he encouraged but his words did nothing to open the stubborn door. "Shit! Sam! Sammy can you hear me! Sam!"

Inside the next room, Sam's dreams turned to nightmares and he was trapped inside them with his older brother no where in sight. He could hear the burning timber and feel the pain as the fire crawl up the back of his leg.

"Dean!" he cried out but no one came and no one would. This would be the end, he realized fearfully.

* * *

**_Author's Note: We'll hope you liked the chappy. Sorry to leave the cliffy. Another update will be coming your way soon. A little side note, Dodge City, I know is a real city but the one I'm creating is fictional. I don't know much of American geography, since I'm Canadian, so the Dodge City in this story- which will only be mentioned a bit-, is a fictional once. It's a New York kind of place, except smaller. Okay? Hope I don't confuse people. We'll what are you waiting for! Now that you've finished all the reading why not review!_**


End file.
